Something... she shook herself mentally.
In her confused state of mind, she had convinced herself that he loved her.
She gingerly untangled herself from some thorny vines and tried to stand.
Why did she need to prove to anyone, least of all herself, that she was right in breaking off the relationship?
Pulling the rail back up, she stood beside the tent, helplessly watching Destiny cry until she coughed herself into another retching fit.
The night air was chilly on her bare arms and she shivered involuntarily, annoyed at herself because it looked like an obvious ploy.
Sometimes it seemed to her that this difference arose from the difference in their ages, but she felt herself to blame toward him and promised in her heart to do better and to accomplish the impossible--in this life to love her husband, her children, little Nicholas, and all her neighbors, as Christ loved mankind.
She met his gaze, her stomach tense as she steeled herself against the response to her next probing question.
His body was the nearest available leaning post, so she helped herself, burying her face in his chest.
All her plans were about to blow up – all this because she had allowed herself to be drawn into a relationship.
She pored herself a cup and started breakfast, wondering where Bordeaux was.
Flinging herself on the bed, she sobbed out the anger and hurt.
Deciding to use the sun to orient herself, she detoured around several dense patches of blackberry bushes.
Hadn't she resigned herself to being the ugly duckling years ago?
Of course, once she had convinced everyone else what a foolish move it would be, how was she going to convince herself that she didn't need Brandon in her life?
Locked herself in her room for days working on layette sets for the grand children Russie would never provide.
How did she get herself into predicaments like this?
Her erotic dreams were proof that he was becoming more than a friend to her, and that thought was troubling - both from the standpoint of her goals, and the fact that she was setting herself up for rejection.
Failing to make herself understood, she would become violent.
Carmen assigned responsibility for that to herself because she didn't notice early enough that Destiny was sick.
Again she had allowed herself to be put in a precarious situation.
The money would assist in taking care of her schooling.
And now she had put herself in a position where she would be alone with him in the car.
She owed it to herself to find out for sure, didn't she?
In view of these facts I cannot but think that Helen, while writing "The Frost King," was entirely unconscious of ever having had the story of "Frost Fairies" read to her, and that her memory has been accompanied by such a loss of associations that she herself honestly believed her composition to be original.
Not my or thy great-grandfather's, but our great-grandmother Nature's universal, vegetable, botanic medicines, by which she has kept herself young always, outlived so many old Parrs in her day, and fed her health with their decaying fatness.
The phÅ“be had already come once more and looked in at my door and window, to see if my house was cavern-like enough for her, sustaining herself on humming wings with clinched talons, as if she held by the air, while she surveyed the premises.
Truth is always in harmony with herself, and is not concerned chiefly to reveal the justice that may consist with wrong-doing.
The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her.
After her father's funeral Princess Mary shut herself up in her room and did not admit anyone.
She blushed, pressed her clasped hands on her knees, and then controlling herself with an evident effort lifted her head and began to speak rapidly.
Princess Mary spent half of every day with little Nicholas, watching his lessons, teaching him Russian and music herself, and talking to Dessalles; the rest of the day she spent over her books, with her old nurse, or with "God's folk" who sometimes came by the back door to see her.
Princess Mary, alarmed by her father's feverish and sleepless activity after his previous apathy, could not bring herself to leave him alone and for the first time in her life ventured to disobey him.
Strange as it was to her to acknowledge this feeling in herself, yet there it was.
On waking she listened to what was going on behind the door and, hearing him groan, said to herself with a sigh that things were still the same.
Unconsciously imitating her father, she now tried to express herself as he did, as much as possible by signs, and her tongue too seemed to move with difficulty.
Princess Mary could no longer restrain herself and wept while she gazed at his face.
She thought he was speaking of Russia, or Prince Andrew, of herself, of his grandson, or of his own death, and so she could not guess his words.
Then, excusing herself, she went to the door of the old prince's room.
"No, he's not dead--it's impossible!" she told herself and approached him, and repressing the terror that seized her, she pressed her lips to his cheek.
Princess Mary raised herself on the sofa on which she had been lying and replied through the closed door that she did not mean to go away and begged to be left in peace.
She wished to pray but did not dare to, dared not in her present state of mind address herself to God.